


You, Me, and the Apocalypse

by wordcraze



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-11-22 19:28:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11386842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordcraze/pseuds/wordcraze
Summary: In the midst of a zombie apocalypse, Harry meets a boy.





	You, Me, and the Apocalypse

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluebrightblue](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebrightblue/gifts).



Harry thinks he’s the last person on earth. It’s been three months since the outbreak, three months since he lost his family, and everyone he ever knew and loved. And to add on to this rotten luck, he’s stuck in an unfamiliar place. Los Angeles is now a crumbling, dead wasteland with walkers stumbling down the streets, their empty eyes staring ahead, and their mouths open, ready to tear into the next living thing they find.

He’d been on holiday with his family when the chaos began. If the world had to go to shit, he wished he could have been home, and in a familiar environment rather than here. Instead of exploring, he’s been holed up in a Costco. The large warehouse has enough food, and other necessities to keep one person going for quite some time, but with the dead just outside, it’s not the most ideal place to be. But for now, he’s comfortable enough… as comfortable as one can be in the midst of a zombie apocalypse.

But the brief relief from the outside world suddenly comes to a screeching halt when Harry hears a hail of gunshots just by the entrance, so he dives behind the TV display, clutching his double barrel shotgun. It’s not exactly the best weapon to take on what seems like an army of people outside, so he can only hope they are friendly. But he knows better than to quickly trust a group of strangers, as he’s seen what the end of the world can do to a person’s morals, and what’s left of their humanity.

Harry peeks out from behind his hiding place, and he counts five people; three men, and two women.

“Sweep the whole place,” says one man who Harry assumes to be the leader. “If you see anyone, kill them.”

Harry freezes. That’s all he needs to hear, and he knows there’s no reasoning with a group like this, so he has to find a way to make it outside without being spotted. He’s trembling a little, but he forces himself to keep a level head so he can think clearly. There’s an exit in the back of the building, but it seems so far away now, and he has to move swiftly and silently so not to be spotted. Though unfortunately, he’s not exactly known for his stealth.

The group splits up, and Harry moves quickly through the aisles, desperate to make it to the back door before he is spotted. He is devastated to lose his seemingly endless supply of food and water, and the place he had made his home for the past few months, but he refuses to get killed over it.

Harry’s grip tightens on his gun, dreading the thought of having to use it on a person. He is currently living in what seemed like the end of days, and in all this time, he had never used his gun on someone who wasn’t one of the undead. He doesn’t have the guts to survive in such a world, so it’s really a surprise he had stayed alive this long.

He can hear them talking, but he can’t see them, which can either be a good or bad thing. The door leading to the stockroom is within sight, and if he can just find the right moment to make a run for it, he’ll be safe.

Harry takes a step forward, and his elbow accidentally nudges a package of cookies, causing it to fall. He curses underneath his breath, and he feels a cold dread creep over him. There is no way they didn’t hear that. He knows he can’t freeze, not now, but he finds himself stuck. The sound of footsteps are close, and there’s a part of him that’s ready to accept his fate. But before Harry can make a move, one of the men he had seen earlier steps out from behind the aisle, and points a gun at him. Harry’s eyes widen, and his hands shake, making the weapon in his hands useless. This is it. This is how he goes. He had made a valiant effort to stay alive for this long, and that means something.

“What was that?” a female voice a few aisles over calls out. It’ll soon be over, and Harry waits for the final blow, but a few seconds later, nothing happens.

To Harry’s surprise, the man lowers his gun, and calls back, “Sorry, that was me.” He grabs Harry’s arm, and looks around before dragging him out from behind the aisle, towards the back door. “Go!” he hisses, giving him a shove. Harry sprints forward, and his hand is on the doorknob when a bullet hits the wall directly above his head. He abruptly turns around, and sees the group leader with a gun pointed at him.

“What the hell is this?” he shouts, his finger still on the trigger. But before he can make another move, he hears a gun go off next to him, and the group leader has collapsed on the floor.

Harry turns to look at his savior, completely bewildered that this man would put a bullet in someone he seemed to be working with for his sake. But Harry isn’t going to question it right now, since his safety is currently his number one concern. The both of them swiftly make their way through the back door, and toward the exit, the sound of pounding footsteps, and shouts of distress not far behind them.

They don’t speak the entire time they’re running, then Harry is pulled into a parking lot, and his mysterious companion quickly chooses a car, and proceeds to hotwire it. Harry takes this time to get a good look at this stranger who is more of a boy than a man, really. Maybe around his age, or not that much older. He’s slender, with ruffled black hair, and his dark eyes are intense, and focused on the task at hand.

The purr of the engine causes sighs of relief from both boys, then they immediately get in the car, and the tires squeal as they zoom away, trying to put as much distance as they can between themselves, and danger.

~*~

Harry’s fingers ache from clutching his gun too tightly, but after a half hour of being on the road, he eventually relaxes. They sit in silence for a while, but this is the first time in a long time that he is in the presence of another (live) human being, so he needs the conversation.

“Thank you,” he says hesitantly. “My name’s—”

“No names,” the boy replies abruptly. “We won’t be traveling together for too long, so there really is no point, is there?”

The boy’s accent gives away that he’s not originally from here, and he’s much closer to Harry’s home if anything, and it gives him a little bit of comfort despite the sharpness of his words.

“Where are you from?” Harry asks, a lilt of excitement to his voice. “I’m from Cheshire. I was here on holiday with my family, but then…” he trails off, and wrinkles his nose when he feels his throat tighten.

The boy’s expression softens, and he sighs. “Just call me Bradford. S’where I’m from.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Bradford. I’m—”

“No names.”

“— Cheshire.”

Bradford glances at Harry through the corner of his eye, then quickly focuses back on the road ahead of them.

“Hello, Cheshire.”

~*~

They settle down at a gated mansion for the night, and Harry has never seen anything so glamorous in his life. He’s just escaped from what seems like his thousandth near death experience (as there are quite a few these days), so he allows himself to be in awe, even if it’s just for a little bit.

The two of them decide to set up in the living room. Just in case something goes awry, they can make a quick getaway, but Harry hopes he can have a peaceful night after what they had been through. 

Harry tries to get comfortable on the couch, but he’s unable to sleep as he’s still very curious about Bradford. Where is his family? What is he doing in Los Angeles? Why did he betray his group to save a complete stranger?

“Can I, um…” Harry begins hesitantly. “.. ask why you saved me?”

Bradford doesn’t answer right away, and he busies himself by setting up a sleeping bag in the corner of the room. He smooths out the fabric, then he looks up at Harry.

“That group I was with,” he replies. “It was just for protection. I had no real ties to them.” He pauses for a moment, then he goes back to fixing the pillows. “And anyway, you looked like a scared bunny. I felt quite bad for you.”

“I did not look like—”

“You looked like a scared bunny.”

Harry lets out a faint huff, and he lowers his head back on the pillow. He really isn’t cut out for this world, and it’s an absolute wonder he has stayed alive for this long. He blames it all on dumb luck, and this time, the kindness of strangers.

“You said you were from Bradford,” Harry says. “What are you doing here in LA?” 

Bradford seems to hesitate a lot, Harry notices. Like he’s carefully picking out his words in order not to give too much away. And he understands that it’s not smart to reveal too much to strangers, but at this point, Harry feels like all they have is each other, so a little trust is needed.

“I live here,” Bradford finally replies. “I moved here a few years ago.”

“Why?”

“You ask a lot of questions, Cheshire.” 

Harry’s cheeks flush. He’s a naturally curious person, and after what seems like an eternity of no human contact, he can’t help his need for conversation. This is what he craves; closeness with others after being denied it for too long, with nothing but the dead to keep him company. 

“I know,” Harry mumbles. “I’m sorry.”

Bradford sighs softly before answering, “I needed a change. I’m always needing a change. And nothing changes faster than this city.” 

“Well, you’ve got one hell of a change now, don’t you?” Harry scoffs.

“Wow,” Bradford lets out a dry laugh. “This isn’t exactly the kind of change I like, just so you know.”

And for the first time in a very long time, Harry’s chest feels a little lighter. It’s a shock that he’s able to feel like this in the midst of all this death and destruction, but here he is, feeling somewhat normal, in a big mansion, with a boy who’s saved his life. 

~*~

They stay at the mansion for a few days. Bradford tells Harry it isn’t smart to stay in one spot for so long, and one has to always be on the move especially at a time like this. For the past three months, Bradford has been moving around the city, not staying in a single spot for more than several days at a time.

The house is well-stocked, but they scavenge the nearby stores for more food, equipment, and medicine they might need. Harry insists on grabbing a big bottle of vitamin C pills, but Bradford tells him that a cold is the least of his worries nowadays. Harry grabs it anyway.

“Anyone ever tell you how stubborn you are, Cheshire?” Bradford asks.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Harry replies. “My mum thinks I’m a delight.” But at the mention of his mother, his face visibly falls, and he becomes quiet. 

Bradford chews on his bottom lip, and gives Harry a pat on the shoulder. “I’m sure we can find room for your vitamin C,” he says.

~*~

They decide to do one more sweep of the area before they pack up, and head out. This time, it’s for clothes (“Who are you trying to impress?” Bradford asks. “The walkers? I’m sure they don’t care.”). 

Harry tries on a variety of clothes, and though he’s more inclined to choose brighter colors, Bradford convinces him to go darker (“I suggest not going for that pink floral print,” he says. “It’ll be like having a big sign on your forehead that says ‘eat me.’”). 

Harry makes his way to the shoes sectioning hopes of finding something practical, yet trendy, and he ignores Bradford’s eye roll at this. He goes to the back room where all the different sizes are available with every intention to be quick, so he doesn’t check his surroundings first. He grabs a box, then he feels the pressure of a hand on his shoulder which he assumes to be Bradford. 

“So what do you think of—” Harry turns around, but instead of seeing a familiar face, he’s looking at rotting skin, gnashing teeth, and dead eyes. He cries out, unable to grab his weapon, and he tries to push the walker off him, but it’s too strong, and unrelenting. He hears a gunshot go off, causing his ears to ring, but relief floods him when the walker collapses on the ground. 

Bradford lowers his gun, looking a little panicked, then he rushes forward, pushes the corpse aside with his foot, and grabs Harry by the arms. “Are you alright? Were you bitten?”

Harry is shaken up, but he manages to nod, and stammer out a reply, “N-No, I wasn’t—”

“Then we need to get out of here,” Bradford interrupts, and he drags Harry out of the room. “Someone definitely heard that shot, whether it be the dead, or something worse.”

“Something worse than the dead?”

“Yeah. The living.”

They swiftly make their way through the shopping center, narrowly dodging a few walkers who heard the gunshot, and are now trying to find the source of it. The both of them make it to the parking lot, unscathed, and Bradford wastes no time in starting the car so they can drive away, escaping whatever threat may have been back there. Whether it be dead, or something worse.

~*~

Harry feels terrible that he had been so careless, and he put both their lives at risk. For the second time, Bradford had pulled him out of harm’s way, and he really feels like he’s just dead weight, and that the other boy would probably be better without him. He expects to be scolded for his actions, but Bradford doesn’t say much as he drives, and Harry doesn’t know if this makes him feel better or worse.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. “I should’ve been more careful, but I wasn’t. I… I wasn’t thinking, and—”

“Let’s go somewhere,” Bradford interrupts. “Maybe we need a break from all this.”

Harry doesn’t know where exactly they can go to escape the horrors of their world, since as far as he knows, every inch of the globe has not gone untouched by the plague. But he could always use a break, and not have to be reminded that everything had gone to shit.

It’s a long drive, and neither of them speaks for the remainder of it, but the silence is drowned out by a cassette playing a classic rock mix. There is something soothing about driving with the windows down, the wind whipping through their hair, with Def Leppard playing in the background. 

The scent of the ocean is in the air, and it smells wonderful, and clean, so Harry takes a deep breath, inhaling it into his lungs. It calms him almost immediately, and he relaxes in his seat as he stares at the passing scenery. The ocean comes into view, and Harry squirms a little in excitement. But right now, all he can hope for is just one day of pretending like everything is normal. 

~*~

It’s almost eerie how quiet and empty the pier is, and it’s a little suspicious, so Harry can’t feel quite at ease. He clutches his gun, his eyes dart everywhere, and he jumps at every noise he hears.

“Hey, relax,” Bradford says, nudging Harry’s arm. “This place has been cleared out ages ago, there’s nothing here. C’mon, let me show you.” He hops up on a bench, cups his hands around his mouth, and shouts, “HELLO!”

Moments pass, and nothing happens. There’s no shuffle of feet, and no sound of distant groaning that Harry expects to follow. To be safe, he waits for a little longer, and he continues to survey his surroundings, and yet, nothing happens. 

Bradford jumps down from the bench, and he motions for Harry to follow him. The pier looks fun, and colorful, and there’s an abundance of shops, restaurants, a huge arcade, and even rides. Harry imagines what this place would have been like with crowds of people, along with the sound of happy voices, and laughter, and it causes a painful twist in his chest knowing that it probably won’t happen again. 

They visit the shops, and Harry trades in his dark shirt for a bright Hawaiian print since he figures it would be safe in a walker-free zone. Bradford just shakes his head, and chuckles, but otherwise, he doesn’t say anything. 

The both of them continue exploring the shops, and they also spend a good chunk of time at the arcade, and for the first time in a long time, Harry forgets about the outside world, and he’s able to be a normal boy again. 

The hours pass quickly, and night has fallen. This would usually make Harry feel uneasy, but here they are, sitting on a bench overlooking the water, with a pile of candy and other junk food in between them to share. 

“I love it here,” Bradford says in between bites of chocolate. “It’s calming. Makes me forget the rest of the world exists.”

Harry nibbles on a cookie, and he turns to look at Bradford, and he feels a little flutter in his stomach, but he’s able to brush it aside and ignore it. “Yeah, I get it. Almost forgot everything had gone to shit.”

Bradford puts down the half-eaten candy bar, and he wipes his hands on his trousers. “I had parents,” he says quietly. “Siblings too. Can’t tell you what became of them, or if they’re even still alive, and that’s my own damn fault because I left them behind when I moved here. Maybe if I’d just stayed home, I could’ve saved them, but…” he sighs, and shakes his head. “Can’t dwell on it.”

“Why did you move?”

“Because I can’t stay in one place for too long,” Bradford replies. “I start getting restless.”

Harry turns his whole body towards Bradford, and he reaches over to squeeze his arm. “Don’t blame yourself for anything that might have happened to your family. I’ve blamed myself for a long time when I lost mine, but with everything that’s happened…” he sighs, and pulls his hand back. “We just can’t blame ourselves. It’s out of our hands.”

Bradford stands up, makes his way over to the railing, and leans on it, then stares down at the water. “Not too long ago, I was at my lowest,” he says. “I didn’t see a way out, and the world was crashing and burning all around me, and I… I was so sure I would die eventually, sometime in the very near future.” 

Harry furrows his brows, and he gets up, moving closer to Bradford. “Are you saying that you were going to…”

“Yeah,” Bradford nods. “Was sitting on that bench, had a gun to my head, and I was ready. God, I really was ready.” 

“What stopped you?”

Bradford shrugs, and he keeps his eyes fixed on the waves. “I was about to pull the trigger, and I realized that I wanted to keep living. I wanted to be able to come back here, and see the ocean, smell the air, and… somehow hold on to the hope that one day everything will be back to normal again.”

Harry feels that strange flutter in his stomach again, but this time, there’s also a slight pain in his chest after hearing what Bradford had to go through. He moves a little closer to the other boy, and after a slight hesitation, he rests his cheek on Bradford’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re alive.”

A faint smile tugs on Bradford’s lips, and he lightly nudges the side of Harry’s head with his nose. “Me too, Cheshire.”

~*~

It’s like being in a dream, and Harry isn’t ready to wake up from it. He likes this sleepy little paradise by the ocean, and he doesn’t want to leave. There are no walkers in sight, and he’s free to roam as he pleases without having to constantly be on guard. It’s refreshing, calming, and he’s unsure if he even wants to leave.

He’s munching on a bag of crisps, and sipping on black coffee, and though he prefers it with an abundance of milk and sugar, this is better than nothing. The light of the early morning sun is reflecting off the water, and it’s peaceful and quiet, which is something he considers extremely rare given their current situation. 

Bradford steps out of the motel they had stayed overnight at, stretches his arms over his head, and yawns, then he makes his way towards Harry while raking his fingers through his tousled hair. 

“Hey,” Harry smiles, and lifts his mug. “Good morning! How was your sleep?”

“Great,” Bradford replies, yawning again, then he reaches over to take Harry’s mug, and sips from it. “One of the best sleeps I’ve had in a long time. God, I needed it.”

Harry taps his fingers against the railing, wondering how to bring up the fact that he wants to stay a little longer despite knowing Bradford’s rule of never sticking around the same location for too long. But there doesn’t seem to be any threat here. There are no walkers for miles around, and he hasn’t spotted a living soul ever since their chaotic escape from Bradford’s old group. There is no real reason for them to leave.

“Do you, um… ever think about just staying in one place?” Harry asks.

Bradford gives him an incredulous look, and he shakes his head. “In this world? Hell, no. Too dangerous.”

Harry scrunches up his nose, and he looks down at his shoes. “Really? You’ve never just thought about how easy, and nice it would be to just… settle down? It certainly beats being on the run all the time.”

“It’s a nice thought,” Bradford replies with a shrug. “But you’ve gotta keep in mind the kind of world we’re living in now. You think a place is safe, but it never is, not completely.”

“But we could make it safe!” Harry insists. “Build fences, set up traps, take all precautions to make sure nothing or no one could get through.”

“Cheshire, are you listening to yourself?” Bradford sets the mug down, and folds his arms over his chest. “There is always going to be a threat, whether they be living or dead, and you better hope it’s the latter because at this point, the living is more dangerous than the dead.”

This isn’t going the way Harry wants, but it’s not exactly surprising. He’s aware of Bradford’s way of trying to survive, and it’s obviously been working for him, but he’s unsure how ideal it really is. 

“You can’t keep living like this,” Harry says. “You can’t keep running. At some point, you’ll have to settle down—”

“Why are you pushing this?” Bradford asks, getting visibly frustrated. “Just because you want to play house in the fucking zombie apocalypse doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I don’t have the luxury to think that way.”

“Please just try! You don’t—”

“Stop,” Bradford says firmly. “Just stop it. I don’t know what the hell I was thinking, keeping you around for this long, but obviously it was a mistake. I told you from the beginning that this was temporary, so maybe it’s time.”

Harry feels a slight panic. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that it’s time to go our separate ways.”

“W-Wait, no, we can’t—”

“Stop it.”

“You don’t mean it,” Harry says, and he reaches out, but Bradford pulls back, and it breaks Harry’s heart a little. “Please, you don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” Bradford interrupts. “But this is for your own good. And mine.” He sighs, and averts his eyes. “Look… Cheshire, I like you. But I’m gonna do whatever it takes to survive.”

There’s a sadness in Bradford’s eyes, and Harry wants to keep pleading with him in an attempt to have him change his mind, but along with that sadness, there’s also determination. There’s no changing his mind, and Harry is forced to accept that. 

~*~

Bradford gives Harry a Glock which is smaller, and an upgrade from his previous weapon, along with a concealable blade. They also find him a new vehicle, but after that, Bradford is quick to leave. There’s a painful twist in his chest as he watches the other boy drive away, but he knows there is nothing he could have done to make him stay. 

It’s not like Bradford was tricking him into thinking that they were going to ride this apocalypse out together, but it still stings, and a part of Harry had thought that with a little more time, he could have changed his mind. But he keeps forgetting that he can’t change people, no matter how hard he tries. They can only change themselves, if they’re willing. And Bradford wasn’t willing.

But as stated before, Harry is quite stubborn, so he waits for a few minutes before taking off in the same direction as the other boy. If Bradford refuses to get close to him, then Harry will have to keep him close in a different way. It’s the end of the world, and no one should be alone.

Harry drives for about forty minutes, but then he slows down when he spots Bradford’s car parked in front of a house. He makes sure his own car is hidden, and he goes into the house across the street so he can have a good view of what Bradford does next. He knows he’s acting like a clingy, delusional ex, but he does genuinely care about the other boy. Bradford has saved Harry multiple times, and maybe a time will come when Harry can do the same, but he doesn’t see that happening anytime soon. That boy definitely does not need anyone’s help. 

He’s unsure how long he’s been at this house, if it’s minutes or hours, but he remains, unmoving, by the window. A few walkers are stumbling in the street, but it’s nothing that can be considered a real threat. Bradford remains inside, but Harry doesn’t dare move from his spot just in case something happens. 

It’s a little difficult to stay awake, but he manages, though sitting in one spot, with his eyes fixed outside isn’t making things any easier. Harry nearly dozes off, but he suddenly jolts awake when a van suddenly speeds into the neighborhood, taking down the few walkers on the street. 

This can’t be good. This really can’t be good.

The car squeals to a stop, and Harry can feel his blood freeze in his veins, and a heaviness in the pit of his stomach when he sees exactly who it is that steps out of the vehicle. He will never forget the faces of the men and women who attacked him back in Costco. There’s only three of them now, one man and two women, and Harry wonders if their leader had succumbed to his wounds. If that’s what had happened, there’s really no need to guess why they’re here. 

Harry grabs the gun Bradford had given him, and he opens the window, aiming it towards the group, but he can’t bring himself to pull the trigger. It was one thing to shoot the undead, but it was an entirely different thing to take an actual life. It’s his friend in that house, and his life is in danger, so why can’t Harry just pull the damn trigger? He mentally curses himself, but he keeps his gun pointed ahead, trying his best to keep steady, but his hands are shaking too much.

He feels his entire body freeze when they kick down the door, and he’s about ready to cry because he’s failed the only person he’s gotten close to in this godforsaken world. Harry had followed Bradford to keep him safe, and at the first sight of trouble, he couldn’t do anything.

Harry is gathering up his courage to go outside, but before he does, he sees something happening across the street. They’re dragging Bradford out of the house, and towards their van, and the first thing Harry feels is relief that the boy is still alive. That’s enough to trigger the bit of bravery he has buried deep inside him, so he storms outside, ready to be the hero he wants to be, but just as he is about to fire his gun, the van backs out of the driveway, and takes off down the street.

“Bradford!” Harry cries out as he watches the van disappear around the corner. He wastes no more time, and he rushes to his car, hoping to catch up with them. He’s unsure if they had seen him before driving away, and if they did, it’s his own fault for barging out, half-cocked and guns blazing. 

For about ten minutes, there’s no sign of the van, and Harry is getting nervous, and a little desperate. But he spots a few walkers laying down, and unmoving on the road with tire tracks over their bodies. The blood looks fresh, and Harry assumes this has occurred only moments before. He continues driving until he comes across what looks like an old, abandoned factory of sorts, so he slows down, and much to his relief, he spots the van. 

Harry parks his car a little off to the side, hidden behind some trees, then he moves swiftly towards the van, and peers in through the windows, but there’s no one inside. He hears voices, and what sounds like banging metal from inside the factory, so he carefully approaches one of the open windows, and stands on his toes to inspect. 

There’s Bradford, seated on a chair, his wrists bound behind him. One woman has a gun pointed at his head, while the other two are banging pipes on a metal cage containing at least a dozen walkers, who are all riled up due to the noise. 

“You killed him!” the woman with the gun exclaims, and Harry knows exactly who she’s talking about. “After we decided to trust you. You repaid us by killing him!”

Bradford scowls, looking angry, and unfazed that he was staring into the barrel of a gun. “Yeah, I’m not too keen on the idea of murdering innocent people.”

“We did what we had to do to survive!”

“No,” Bradford continues to insist. “Not if it means losing my humanity.”

The woman steps forward, and lifts the gun, then hits him across the face with it, and Harry has to force himself not to react. Not yet. He has to wait for the right moment or else the both of them won’t be getting out of here alive.

“You killed him in exchange for a stranger’s life!” she shouts. “Now tell me, was it worth it?”

Blood has pooled inside Bradford’s mouth due to the impact of the gun, so he spits it out, and stares defiantly at the woman. “Yes, it was worth it, and for him, I’d do it all over again.”

Harry’s heart skips a beat, but he knows this isn’t the time to be feeling this way, and he won’t let anything distract him from his current mission. He’s close enough to get a good shot, and he fancies himself to be a pretty decent one, especially after all the practice he had on the dead. His finger is on the trigger, and he takes a deep breath, clears his mind, then he shoots. The bullet hits the woman’s arm, and she screams, dropping the gun, then stumbles backwards. Harry rushes inside the building, and steps in front of Bradford, all the while keeping his gun fixed on the woman.

“If any of you move,” he says to the other two, who stop scrambling for their weapons. “I’ll put a bullet in her brain.” 

A faint gasp sounds in Bradford’s throat, and his voice trembles a little as he chokes out, “Cheshire.”

Harry doesn’t take his eyes off the three of them, and he scoots towards his friend, and with one hand, he tries to undo the knots that are binding the boy’s wrists together. After managing to loosen them, Bradford immediately stands up, and he grabs the gun the woman had dropped on the floor. 

“Doesn’t matter where you go,” the woman hisses, as she tries to keep the blood from gushing out of her wound. “We’ve found you once before, and we will find you again.” 

“I know,” Harry replies. “Which is why we can’t have that.” He points his gun to the lock on the cage, and he fires, causing the lock to fall apart, and allowing the walkers to push the cage door open. 

The three have now turned their attention away from Harry and Bradford, scurrying for a way to defend themselves from the onslaught of walkers, giving the two boys a chance to escape. As they sprint out of the building, they hear the screams of pain, ripping flesh, and the crunching of bones. The screams eventually die down, and there is nothing left but the muffled moans of the dead. 

They run to Harry’s car, the both of them finally out of harm’s way, so they pause for a moment to catch their breath. The adrenaline is still pumping through Harry’s veins, and he lets out a breathless laugh, which causes Bradford to join in with him. They survived. After many close encounters that seemed like one after the other, they managed to survive through it all. And that, to them, means everything.

“You saved me,” Bradford says. “I left you, but you came back to save me.”

Harry smiles a little, and shrugs. “I’m not that easy to shake off.”

“Good,” Bradford replies, his eyes becoming slightly wet, but he quickly blinks them back. A second later, he takes a hold of Harry’s hand, and he leans in, his voice low. “My name is Zayn.”

Harry no longer ignores the fluttering in his stomach, and the skipping of his heartbeat, and after all this time, he allows himself to feel it all at once. “I’m Harry.”

Zayn takes Harry’s face between his hands, and he pulls him in. Their lips brush timidly, and briefly, but after the initial contact, they kiss a little deeper; a little sweeter. They pull back slowly, and Zayn smiles.

“Hello, Harry.”


End file.
